


Ice and Ambition

by strawberriesandtophats



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats
Summary: For the prompt: romantic eveningMorse and Jakes spend some quality time together working late to solve a case, Jakes is horrified by Morse's invention of iced coffee sludge and Bright is just happy that his officers do their jobs.





	Ice and Ambition

When Jakes came back to the station, it was so late at night that it was almost early in the morning. It would be at least three or four hours until the others showed up, the moonlight struggling to shine through the windows.

The case was a harrowing one, full of red herrings and weird academics that spoke only in obscure references. He’d caught a few nods to Dickens, but Morse had made thoughtful noises and made a whole speech about Moriarty and mortality.

In short, it was the sort of case that Morse excelled in solving. Jakes had spent the whole day and evening following leads and doing paperwork. If he didn’t have to make another phone call this week, he’d be a happier policeman.

 

He found Morse in the shared office space, surrounded by thick library books and endless case files. The radio was playing in the background, all strings and flutes.

“There you are,” Jakes said, more as a greeting than anything else. Morse was pretty much always at the station when he wasn’t at home or attending some sort of music thing.

Jakes lit the lamp at his desk so that it matched the one on Morse’s desk.

Morse turned around briefly to nod at him, a glass of liquid in his hand. It was far too dark to be ale.

Jakes came closer, his eyes narrowing.

Morse had cut down, recently. But if he was drinking in the middle of the night when Jakes was asleep…

The scent of coffee was so strong that Jakes suspected that it could win awards if it put its mind to it. Ice clinked in the glass.

“Did you accidentally pour your coffee into a glass full of ice?” Jakes asked Morse, who was standing in front of the board and staring at the photographs.

“Mr. Bright’s coffee is so strong that I couldn’t stir it with a spoon,” Morse said. “I had to do something. Especially after I poured in what was left of coffee grounds into my mug.”

“Why would you do that?” Jakes asked. 

Now that was a question he wanted to ask Morse all the time, since the man spent so much time doing odd things like listening to church bells in order to judge them, never remembered to eat any food unless Jakes actively dragged him into restaurants and quoted poetry at people.

Morse shrugged.

“What about adding milk?” Jakes asked, horror in his voice.

Milk was the sensible choice. Or sugar.

Even cream.

Morse needed more cream in his life.

He’d heard of people adding ice-cream to their coffee in a pinch.

“The milk was off,” Morse said, taking a sip of his cold coffee. “More off than this case.”

“Figured something out, have you?” Jakes asked, pulling out the last cigarette from the battered cardboard packet. He lit the cigarette, enjoying the way Morse tore himself away from the work for a split second only to watch him.

“I think I’ve finally got the timeline right,” Morse said, opening a drawer and sliding a new, whole packet of cigarettes towards Jakes. 

“That’s good,” Jakes said. “Saves us the effort of visiting every single suspect. The old man will be pleased.”

“We could just continue working,” Morse said, standing far closer than he’d ever dare to do in broad daylight. Jakes slid an arm around his back, the worn shirt Morse wore soft underneath his fingers.

It would be good for their careers to be sure. Working together all though the night to solve a difficult case was always something the higher ups liked.

“Easier to stay up than to head home and catch an hour or so of sleep, if that,” Jakes said, taking the glass from Morse’s hand and sipping the icy coffee. It tasted like bitterness and ambition and sugar.

It was as close to kissing in the office as they could get.

“So,” Jakes said, sitting down behind his desk, tapping ash on his chipped ashtray. “How many killers are we talking about here?”

Morse smiled like a tiger.

 

Later, when they’ve pinned even more photos to the board and filled out more paperwork than anyone should do in the middle of the night, they turned off the lights for some long, blissful twenty minutes of total darkness and no worries about being caught.

When Bright found them two hours later, the case had progressed to the point where the only thing left was to arrest at least two murderers and the whole station smelled like cigarette smoke. He didn’t say anything when he saw Jakes re-styling his hair in the bathroom or Morse sleeping on top of Jakes’ desk. Thursday would no doubt make a comment or two about having sleepovers in the station.

No.

Things were just fine from his point of view.

After all, they had murderers to catch and enough evidence to jail them all.

When they'd done that, he'd dig out the good coffee.


End file.
